


Social Distancing

by i_am_a_cliche



Category: Scooby Doo - All Media Types
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Quarantine 2020, Scooby Doo References, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23720674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_a_cliche/pseuds/i_am_a_cliche
Summary: A one-shot that depicts how the members of Mystery Incorporated would behave if they were forced to quarantine alongside the rest of the world during the unprecedented 2020 global pandemic. Ships are Fraphne and Shelma; rated T to be safe.
Relationships: Daphne Blake/Fred Jones, Velma Dinkley/Norville "Shaggy" Rogers
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33





	Social Distancing

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is also cross-posted on FF.net, but I thought I would open an A03 account and see where that goes from here. I thought I would start by sharing this most recent one-shot first, since it's so applicable to today's pandemic. Please read and review if you are intereste!
> 
> Best,
> 
> iamacliche

**Social Distancing**

They were untangling the loose ends of a mystery in south Africa when the virus first hit China. News about the virus began to trickle through the media around Christmas time, and after New Year's Eve had passed in a coruscating explosion of multicolor fireworks, after the fake evergreen trees and the frayed tinsel garlands and the glassy ornaments had been shoved back into the recesses of people's basements as though Christmas hadn't happened at all, fear and panic slowly began to consume the Earth. Regardless, they continued to traipse around solving mysteries, because that was what they did best, and because the world still needed them; however, they knew they had to at least be cautious and wise if they were going to continue their endeavors. After Africa, they remained within the confines of the United States, hoping to resume travelling around the world once the illness had extinguished itself overseas, and as they ripped cheap rubbery masks off men and women who masterminded bank robberies and kidnappings and even murders, the virus continued to creep across the world steadily. But then the virus materialized on a map of the United States, and at first it was confined to one area and contained, like a constellation of freckles, or the first few bumps from an irritating but painless rash. They kept one eye on the evening news and another eye on the mysteries that continued to unfurl before them, but even still the red dots on the map spread and multiplied across the country, swelling like clusters of angry red bumps until entire states and cities were drenched in the virus, and it was only a matter of days before the map of the United States was no longer a smattering of a few welts but an entire gash of angry, festering hives that sweltered across the entire country. It was then that they had no choice but to park the psychedelic neon van in the garage and shutter the door behind them so they could do the most difficult thing they had ever done. It was the last thing they had ever done during any disaster or mystery prior, but it had suddenly and jarringly become the necessary thing to do now, and that was to stay home.

* * *

Fred Jones blinked as his eyes swiveled towards the clock for the twelfth time in the past five minutes. The blood red digital alarm clock flashed back at him, _3:07 AM, 3:07 AM, 3:07 AM,_ and he suppressed the urge to groan. Curled up in the crook of his arm was his girlfriend, Daphne Blake, who somehow was sleeping peacefully, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. They were now on their third consecutive week of quarantine and social distancing, and both of them were experiencing choppy adjustments to what everyone was infamously dubbing this collective trauma "the new normal." And unfortunately for Fred, the inability to sleep through the night seemed to be part of the residual fallout from this pandemic.

Honestly, the most difficult part for him was the fact that he and Daphne were separated from Shaggy Rogers, Velma Dinkley, and Scooby Doo, who were isolated safely in Shaggy and Velma's apartment. Mystery Incorporated spent almost every single day together travelling on the road in close proximity, and this sudden isolation was grueling. Fred missed the balmy evenings when he and his friends would lay swathed in their own sleeping bags on the cold floor of the Mystery Machine after a long day of travelling. On most nights, the friends would all stay awake trading jokes and stories and laughs while they were cocooned inside their toasty, cozy sleeping bags, and instead of sleeping, they would dream about the next morning and what kind of mystery and adventures awaited them. Fred missed everything from his former life during these long, sleepless nights. He missed watching Shaggy and Scooby demolish entire dinner sized courses in one sitting while they wouldn't even bat an eye at the grease stains spreading on their arms or the curious looks nosy customers would cast upon the two; he missed the way Velma would snap her fingers and exclaim "Jinkies!" whenever she had cracked a mystery wide open; he missed driving the gang around in the Mystery Machine, and glancing over at the passenger seat to see Daphne beaming at him as the sun hit her face perfectly and made her appear more angelic than ever; he missed everything, everything, everything. His entire life had rotated around his friends and mystery solving as the planets revolve around the sun, and until now he had taken for granted his friends' enormous presence in his life, constantly supporting and sustaining Fred like a sturdy, silver latticed net that never wavered beneath his feet.

Fred shook his head blearily at the thought of nets. "You've gotta stop dwelling on nets and traps right now," he scolded himself. "That's all a thing of the past right now. Daphne needs you to be here for her now more than ever."

Fred's eyes flickered towards Daphne now, and he smiled tenderly as he watched her drifting in and out of sleep, her eyes twitching softly as she dreamed. The other issue that sat heavily upon his chest was how this was all out of his control, which was something Fred wasn't accustomed to as leader of Mystery Incorporated. He was constantly on high alert, his body vibrating with anxiety that rolled off in waves whenever Daphne so much as coughed or sneezed, and sometimes when he couldn't sleep at night, he laid his head on her chest and just listened to the sound of the air filtering in and out of her lungs whenever she breathed. His greatest fear was that she would contract the virus, that the invisible germs would be coated on the plastic grocery bags he carried home from the grocery store or spread along the surface of the cardboard box from a pizza delivery; he constantly worried that he was bringing the illness into their home unknowingly while they hid behind their doors and their walls, and he spent many moments fearing that the virus was pulling a Trojan horse act and infiltrating them both unknowingly from the inside. As a result, both of them were constantly washing their hands; Fred's knuckles were constantly flaking with dried blood and his hands were crusted and cracked because he had heard hot water killed the virus, so the water was always scalding hot, and he always hummed beyond the recommend twenty seconds whenever he washed his hands, extending his chosen song for day by an extra fifteen seconds, just to be on the safe side. Hand-washing wasn't the only weapon he had wielded against this illness; their counters were constantly sparkling from Clorox wipes, and their house always smelled crisp from the Lysol spray. Most days these things didn't feel like enough for Fred, but as someone who was used to maintaining control during mysteries and extending safety to his friends, it had given him a semblance of stability, and it was all he could do for now.

But Fred knew that he had to attempt to reign in some of his emotions, as Daphne was starting to absorb some of it. Between the constant close proximity and the tension crackling in the air (much of which was caused by his own anxiety), he and Daphne had begun to snap at each other. It was only once or twice, but this was an occurrence neither of them had gone through before the quarantine and the virus, and it made his chest knot whenever friction between the two had occurred. Just the other day, Daphne had snapped at him because he had forgotten to purchase toilet paper during his once-a-week grocery run. After he snapped back that he would return to the store after stopping to pump gas for their car, he stumbled out to the car and turned the key in the ignition, still shaking his head and berating himself for succumbing to a meaningless fight, and just as he began to reverse the vehicle Daphne flew out of the house, and as she torpedoed towards him Fred could see that her face was streaked with tears, and she was crying so hard that she was gasping for breath. Fred slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the car, and she flung herself into his arms and wailed, "It isn't worth it, there's nothing at those stores right now that's worth losing you forever if you got sick!" After he held her for several minutes and finally managed to soothe her and insist that he at least needed to pump gas, she begged him to cover his hands with one of the disposable waxy doggie bags they used to collect Scooby's droppings during walks because she had heard the virus was spreading from gas pumps, and as Fred drove off he shook his head and could hardly believe this strange new world in which people hoped and prayed that this layer from a thin, plastic bag would be enough to separate someone from health or illness, life or death, all the while partaking in an activity that was mundane and practically meaningless only weeks ago.

As Fred recalled the doggie bag incident he looked again at Daphne, and he felt his heart swell in his chest. Even though he had been consumed with worrying about her health and her safety, it somehow hadn't occurred to him that Daphne would be equally as concerned with his health and safety, and he felt her love envelope him like a blanket around his shoulders. While it was true that the past few weeks had been riddled with gut-wrenching, anxious moments, there had also been some beautiful, wonderful moments laced in there, as well. Just last week, he and Daphne had decided to stay in their pajamas all day and have a movie marathon, and they had laid in each other's arms on the couch the entire day, rising only to use the restroom or reheat some pizza. After the seventh movie ended Fred glanced at Daphne as the credits scrolled across the screen, and his heart warmed when he saw her sleeping softly, her face bathed in the subtle glow of the television, and he felt more content now than he had ever felt before. And even though these sleepless nights were less than ideal, especially when he woke up in the morning with a pounding headache, Fred relished the fact that he could at least watch Daphne while she slept in his arms, and it was enough for him to simply be contoured against her warm body while she rested and dreamed.

As if she had sensed he was thinking of her, Daphne began to stir, first by moaning softly and then gasping and uttering, "no no no," and Fred instantly knew she was having a nightmare. Already he was trying to protect her and be strong for her; the sinewy muscles of his arms circled her as he held her tight, and he said, "Shhhh, Daph, it's okay – I'm here."

Daphne's eyes fluttered open and darted about wildly as she adjusted to being awake again, and when her eyes fell upon Fred's kind face and his patient smile, she sighed and burrowed her face into his neck, inhaling him there as she always did when she needed reassurance.

"Oh Freddy, I had another nightmare about being kidnapped during a mystery again," Daphne bemoaned as Fred stroked her hair. Fred could feel her heart beating erratically against his own chest, and he leaned forward to kiss her delicately on the forehead as he squeezed his arms around her, reassuring her silently that she was safe and that he would never let any harm befall her. Daphne smiled as she leaned into his embrace, circling her arms around his body and pulling herself against him so that they were soldered together.

"Isn't it weird how our dreams are still about our regular lives when we sleep at night?" Daphne speculated aloud to Fred, who paled slightly upon the question. Daphne, perceptive as ever, brushed her fingers through his thick blonde hair and asked softly, "You were having a hard time sleeping again, weren't you?"

Fred's first reaction was to deny it so that he could shield her from unnecessary worry, but there was nothing he could conceal from Daphne, who could easily read his every gesture, no matter how slight, and interpret it in an instant. "Yeah," he admitted with a sigh. "I guess I had a lot on my mind again."

"Penny for your thoughts?" Daphne requested with a smile, her eyes glittering as they always did whenever she asked him that question.

Fred wrapped one of Daphne's loose red curls around his finger as he confessed, "I can't help but reflect on these past few weeks. I guess there are still moments when I can't quite comprehend what's all happening; it feels like I'm trapped in some plot for a dystopian young adult novel or a science fiction movie."

Daphne nodded sympathetically; she could completely relate to this, as there were some mornings when she would wake up and anticipate the day as it stretched before her like an endless ream of blank white paper, but then she would hear Fred washing his hands for the hundredth time in the bathroom or hear him spraying the nozzle on the Lysol spray, and the reality of their situation would constrict her all over again, binding her chest and her throat so that she had to clear her throat for a moment just so she could adjust herself to the reality that she and Fred were confined to another day in their house. Even though the house they shared was lavish and immense as a result of acquiring some inheritance money from her parents after she had graduated from college, her and Fred were both starting to feel stir crazy these past few days, and she eagerly anticipated the day when she could once again book an appointment at the hair salon to treat herself to a fresh manicure.

"I know what you mean," Daphne said empathetically. "I have moments when I feel as though I've always lived every day sitting at home and passing the days away quietly, but then I have my moments when I need to pinch myself or turn on the news to remind myself that it's like a war out there. I can't believe how different life is now compared to only a month ago."

Fred tucked the piece of hair that he had been winding around his finger behind Daphne's ear, and he kissed her on the nose. "Yea, I can't believe how different things are now, too," he agreed. "Ya know what really gets to me is how low the gas prices are right now! If this had happened during any other time, I would have been so thrilled; the Mystery Machine is such a gas guzzler, especially since we drive it around for mysteries so often!"

Daphne giggled melodiously and added, "And air plane tickets are so cheap, too! It really makes me wish they had been this cheap a year ago, only obviously under different circumstances. The cheap prices would have really helped our budget during the string of international mysteries we solved last year! It figures that we would be trapped at home while everything is so cheap."

When Daphne said the word "trapped," Fred visibly flinched as though he had been slapped, and Daphne giggled in spite of herself as she hugged Fred against her. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring up traps right now," she said.

"No, it's okay," Fred reassured her. He paused, then lamented with a sigh, "You are right, it's so ironic that travel is so cheap and accessible right now, but yet no one can even go anywhere."

Daphne reached for his hands beneath the cover and intertwined them in her own. "Has that been the hardest part about this situation for you?"

"What's that, the low gas prices and the airline ticket prices that we can't even take advantage of?" Fred sniffed.

"I mean the fact that we can't go anywhere right now or do anything," Daphne clarified patiently.

Fred thought carefully for a moment, and then replied, "Yea, if that isn't the hardest part about this whole thing, it's definitely one of the most difficult things. It's not so much the fact that we can't go anywhere, though, as much as this is the first time the world has been in danger and we're doing literally nothing to help right now."

Daphne knit her eyebrows together as her thumb traced tiny circles against Fred's hand beneath the bed sheets. "What do you mean, Freddy?" she asked.

Fred considered how to explain himself before continuing, "What I mean is that every time the world has needed us, we've always been there to solve the mystery or unmask the 'bad guy,' and no matter what the situation, it's always over in a matter of hours, or days, tops. Think about it, Daph; whenever someone calls us and needs our help, what is it that we do? We jump in the Mystery Machine and drive or fly towards the mystery and the chaos, right? Well, this time, we can't do that; instead, we have to sit at home and wait for this to blow over, and I hate it. It makes me wish we could do something to help, just like we always do. We've never received a phone call for a mystery and said, 'Ah, we'll just stay home and sit this one out,' and it feels like I'm doing something wrong by staying home right now. I've never felt so powerless, and I've never felt less in control than I have before now."

As the words tumbled out of Fred he shocked himself at his willingness to be so vulnerable with Daphne, which was usually difficult for him with anyone else, but as always it was so easy and so seamless with her. While he spoke she moved her head to rest on Fred's bare chest, and she was still and silent, listening to the sound of his heart galloping in his chest as he spoke, filling their bedroom with his words and his anxiety. After he stopped they were both silent and still; Fred could hear Daphne breathing softly, and he circled his arms around her slender waist. She was so quiet and peaceful that Fred began to wonder if she had drifted back to sleep, but then she spoke so softly that Fred didn't even hear her at first.

"I wouldn't say we aren't in control, Freddy," Daphne murmured. "And in fact, I wouldn't say that we're just sitting at home doing nothing, either."

Fred's forehead furrowed together as he processed what she was saying, but his thoughts felt fragmented and loose in his mind from lack of sleep. "I'm not sure that I follow you," he admitted.

Daphne picked up her head to stare at Fred, and slowly her fingers began to trail down his cheek, grazing against the stubble on his chin, which was a result of the relaxed approach he had adapted during this quarantine as opposed to his usually meticulous and careful hygienic routine. She smiled at him, and her eyes were soft as her heart swelled with all the love and adoration it contained for him.

"Freddy, I mean this with all the love in the world when I say that I think you're wrong about being in control of things right now," Daphne said. She leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Sure, we may not be in control of the virus as of right now, or the fact that we aren't able to go to malls and restaurants and movie theaters, but we are in control of other things."

Fred crinkled his eyebrows together as he wondered where Daphne was leading him with this thought; it sure didn't sound like he was in control of anything from the way that she had explained things thus far.

"We aren't in control of those things, but we are in control of other aspects of our lives," Daphne elaborated. "What I mean is that there _are_ other things we can control right now, like how we treat other people, and how we spend our time at home every day, and what we eat and what we choose to watch, and even how we feel day to day to a certain extent."

Fred paused as he reflected on what she said, and he replied, "That may be true, but it still doesn't help that Mystery Inc. isn't allowed to do anything to help save the world right now. We tried calling Coolsville's police and hospitals, and they just told us to stay home, and that's not something we're used to doing during times of crisis and global chaos. We're supposed to be out there helping, not sitting at home and playing Nintendo Switch games and binge watching _Tiger King_ Netflix."

"But I think you're missing the bigger picture here," Daphne explained to Fred patiently. "You see, even though it may not feel like it, we _are_ helping the world right now; it just doesn't conform to your idea of helping. Your idea of helping is being out and about in the streets and trying to fight some physical, concrete bad guy, but that's not what we're dealing with this time, and the best way we can do our part to help save the world this time is by staying home and staying away from everyone so the nurses and doctors can do their jobs. It may not look and feel like we're doing much, but by staying home and staying away, we're still doing _something_ to help save the world; it just feels less impactful than jumping into the Mystery Machine and driving away because saving the world looks different than it did a month ago, and we just have to do our best to accept that."

As Fred pondered everything Daphne said, a slow realization blanketed over him, and he felt the most peaceful that he had felt since he and Daphne had been forced to shelter in place. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her palm softly, as though her body was fragile and made of glass.

"You always were smarter than me," he said as a smile tugged on Daphne's lips. "Thank you so much – I honestly do feel better now that you've said all of that."

Daphne's face split into a grin, and she felt as though her cheeks would crack from her smile. "You're pretty smart too, Fred Jones," she said as she kissed his nose. "I think you just need reminding sometimes and someone to talk you through it."

"As long as that someone who is there to talk me through anything that's bothering me is you, then I'm fine," Fred returned with a smile. He yawned; he suddenly felt as though his body had been wrung out like a dish rag, and he glanced at the clock, grimacing when he saw that it was almost four AM. His body was beginning to feel warm and heavy, and when he looked at Daphne, he could see her eyes flapping open and closed, as though she was fighting off sleep, too.

Fred enveloped Daphne against him, and she nestled her head into his neck with a yawn. "I think it's time we should try and sleep," he said with a yawn.

"Yea, we have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow," Daphne teased lightly with a grin, and she too yawned as she watched Fred. "What should we do tomorrow, Freddy? Should we video chat with Shaggy and Velma and Scooby again, or should we have another movie marathon?"

Fred sleepily and lazily kissed the top of Daphne's head, and her eyes slid closed one final time as she submitted to the tide of sleep that was tugging at her. The final drowsy, lazy thought that bubbled to Fred's mind was, "Both – we can do both of those things."

After all, they had the entire day stretched before them to do anything they wanted while they stayed home, quietly saving the world from the comfort of each other's arms.

* * *

"Velma, these statistics are so promising – thank you very much for sending these my way!"

Velma beamed at the man with the bulbous nose who spoke to her from behind the laptop screen. "Dr. Wright, thank you so very much for your encouraging words! I had hoped that my research on viruses that I gathered during my Master's degree would be of use, but I didn't realize they would prove this helpful." Velma gushed ecstatically.

Dr. Wright's brown eyes glittered as Velma spoke. "Your findings are not only helpful, Velma, but they are incredibly valuable – I am very optimistic that we should see the curve flattening drastically soon with results such as these!"

As Velma spoke with Dr. Wright via Zoom chat in her home office, Shaggy listened from his spot on the couch in the conjoining living room, and he felt a smile spread across his face. From the moment he had first met Velma when they were only fourteen years old, he had intrinsically known she would impact and change the world someday, and now he wasn't shocked to see that she was literally helping to save the world by contributing to a potential cure for the virus that had wrought this pandemic. Ever since Mystery Inc. had split into their separate homes after the "shelter in place" order had been delivered, Velma spent hours holed up in her and Shaggy's home office while she chatted with scientists and doctors via Zoom regarding her research and viruses and potential cures. Each video call sounded different from the last, and they were almost always punctured by the sound of a dog barking in the background or a child sobbing and crying for his mother or father, and almost every single time the doctor speaking with Velma would have to step away to soothe the tousle-haired toddler who had stepped into the corner of the screen. Occasionally Scooby Doo would contribute to the noise by barking at a squirrel as it darted outside, which elicited a glare from Velma as she wrenched the office door closed behind her as Scooby clawed and jumped at the window, but for the most part, Scooby was well behaved and handling the quarantine as well as anyone else while he whittled the days away with Shaggy.

For Shaggy and Scooby, while the quarantine and the virus were concerning, they were otherwise perfectly content with the prospect of social distancing; after all, this implied that ghosts and monsters and guys who dressed up in cheap Halloween masks needed to sit in isolation, too. As a result, crime and mysteries had halted for now, and even if they hadn't, Velma stressed the importance of staying home and isolating oneself during this pandemic, so Shaggy felt secure in knowing that he could relax for a while without the prospect of being chased by a freak in a mask popping up as a blip on his radar anytime soon. For the first time in years, Shaggy and Scooby were enjoying the time off mysteries to cook all of the recipes they had been meaning to indulge in but never had a chance to try because they were always on the road, and when they weren't eating, they were playing _Mario Kart_ or _Animal Crossing_ on Shaggy's brand new Nintendo Switch, or they were partaking in Shaggy's other favorite pastime, which was scouring social media for memes. Currently, memes were amplified by the global pandemic and were therefore funnier than usual as long as they weren't too dark and were unproblematic in how they portrayed the content; Shaggy especially enjoyed the memes that joked about the toilet paper buying frenzy, or the ones that compared grocery shopping to a battlefield in _The Hunger Games,_ and even some of the _Tiger King_ memes caused Shaggy to roar with laughter despite the fact he had decided not to watch the documentary because it sounded too intense and weighty for him. Shaggy could tell Scooby wasn't quite comprehending why humans constructed jokes on the internet in order to convey some off brand of humor in dark situations, but Scooby knew that humor was Shaggy's way of coping with trauma, so Scooby would humor Shaggy by laughing along with him, and to ensure that his best friend was always happy during this grim and uncertain time.

Even though Shaggy enjoyed the bonding time with Scooby, what he really missed was spending time with Velma. While he was proud of her for contributing so much towards a possible cure, so much of her time was consumed with Zoom chats with doctors and professionals, which was why Shaggy was currently waiting for her to sign off with Dr. Wright so he could surprise her with a fun activity to distract her and take her mind off of the pandemic for just awhile. He sat beside Scooby on the couch as he continued to listen in on Velma's conversation, and when he heard the sound of the laptop clicking shut, he wiggled his eyebrows at Scooby, who wagged his tail eagerly as Shaggy leapt from the couch and raced to greet Velma in the home office; he was so excited, he felt as though his body was tingling with anticipation.

"Hey Velm!" Shaggy chirped, causing Velma to jump with surprise. When she turned around to face him, her face visibly softened.

"Jinkies Shaggy, you sure gave me a fright!" Velma remarked. "I was not anticipating you to be standing right behind me."

"Like, sorry Velm!" Shaggy said, the childlike grin still pasted to his face. "I didn't mean to, like, scare you, but I was wonderin' if you were, like, done with your video chats now?"

Velma felt her heart sink in her chest; she knew that Shaggy and Scooby were feeling a bit neglected right now, and that made her feel guilty, but she thrived on feeling as though she could contribute and be productive during this time. When Mystery Inc. had been forced to remain in the confines of their respective houses at the start of the pandemic, she had felt as though she was isolated, floating adrift in a sea of self-loathing because her and the gang never sat home when the world was in danger; however, when Dr. Wright reached out to Velma after he heard about her research on viruses during her graduate degree, Velma had instantly found herself catapulted back into being a productive piece in the fabric of society once more, and she couldn't sit by idly while people were suffering. But she _was_ done with her video conferencing for the night, and Shaggy _was_ standing before her with that dorky but adorable smile that always made her heart flutter like a hummingbird inside her chest…

"Okay Shaggy, I'm done for the night," Velma said with a smile. "What is it that you had in mind?"

Shaggy's smile stretched even further, which Velma didn't think was possible, and he jerked his head towards the bathroom. "I'll explain in a minute, but like, I know we have to wash our hands first, so let's go take care of that!"

Velma followed Shaggy into their bathroom, giggling when Shaggy glanced at the poster Velma had laminated and placed beside the mirror angled above their sink. When information about the virus had spread and people were instructed to wash their hands for a minimum of twenty seconds, social media had begun to generate helpful and humorous memes featuring song lyrics that were twenty seconds in length. The idea was to use the song lyrics as a guideline for one's handwashing experience, which was something Velma was constantly reminding her friends to do, in addition to abstaining from touching their own face and ensuring that their nails were cut short so the virus could not survive beneath their fingernails. Finally, to ensure that Shaggy was always cognizant of the twenty second hand washing requirement, she had printed a meme and laminated it before tactfully placing it above the mirror in their bathroom. Shaggy had found so much amusement in this that he carefully and seriously considered a song lyric each time before he washed his hands, and whenever Velma happened to be walking by the bathroom and she saw his face squinted in thoughtful reflection while he lathered the soap in his hands and eyed the meme, she felt her lips twitching into a smile, and she was reminded that Shaggy's good natured attitude was one of the many things that had first attracted her to him all those years ago.

This time Shaggy was selecting The Proclaimer's "500 Miles," which was one of his favorites and most frequent selections because he loved to yell "DA DA DA DA!" about five times after he hummed the chorus, and every time he did so he ensured to be as overly dramatic as possible; he would thrust his newly washed hands into the air and flutter his hands about in an attempt to showcase his jazz hands, which never failed to make Velma fall into a fit of giggles. This time, he clapped his soapy hands together in the sink bowl as he yelped the "DA DA DA DA's," which produced a stream of bubbles that floated and hovered around the sink. After twenty-five seconds (he always added five seconds for good measure, which he knew would make Velma sigh with relief over the fact that he was doing everything he could to be healthy), he stepped aside to let Velma stand before the sink. She reached for the soap dispenser and pumped the lilac scented bacterial soap into her palms, and as she began to vigorously wash between her fingers, Shaggy yelped, "LIKE, HOLD ON JUST A SECOND! You didn't pick a song!"

"Jinkies, Shaggy, it's okay, I'm counting to twenty!" Velma replied, surprised at Shaggy's outburst; she hadn't realized that he was so sincerely attached to the idea of singing while hand washing.

"Like, nuh-uh, no way! The song selection is, like, everything when you're washin' your hands, Velm!" Shaggy said with a grin. "You gotta, like, pick somethin' every time so that each hand washing experience is better than the last!"

Velma giggled in spite of herself, glancing at the song selection plastered on the wall in front of her. "Pick one then for me, Shaggy," Velma said, curious as to what he would choose. "Surprise me."

Shaggy, being the fun and bubbly ham that he was, began to whistle the tune to Lizzo's "Good as Hell," which caused Velma to erupt with laughter all over again. "C'mon, Velm, you gotta, like, sing it!" Shaggy said. Finally, Velma hummed the lyrics to the chorus of "Good as Hell" against the backdrop of Shaggy's whistling; her cheeks were red from singing in front of Shaggy, and she surely wasn't going to be nominated for any awards for her musical talent soon, but she loved the way Shaggy made something as mundane as hand washing into a fun and entertaining experience.

After they both patted their hands dry on the cream towel hanging opposite the sink, Shaggy took Velma's hand in his and lead her into the kitchen, which didn't surprise Velma in the least; what did surprise her, however, was the various mixing bowls of different sizes and colors and the stuffed sacks of flour and brown sugar spread before her on the mahogany island in the middle of their kitchen.

Velma blinked. "Shaggy, I'm a bit confused – what are we doing?"

Shaggy grinned as he opened the refrigerator and began to rummage around inside. "We, are like, going to bake some of my famous homemade Scooby Snack flavored cupcakes! I've been, like, meaning to show you my famous recipe for so long, but we're like, always on the road and what not, so I haven't had a chance to show ya until now!"

Velma bit back a grimace at the thought of eating dog treat flavored cupcakes; she didn't want to hurt Shaggy's feelings though, so she hoped her voice sounded sincere and genuine when she said, "Wow, Shaggy, I can't wait to taste these – I'm sure they're great!"

Shaggy emerged from the refrigerator carrying a stick of butter and a gallon of milk, which he placed on the island, just beside all the other ingredients. He slid a notecard towards Velma and nodded towards it as he rummaged through the cabinet for the electric mixer and some measuring cups. "Like, read the recipe," he instructed her. "Everything, is like, homemade, and that includes the frosting. I'm going all out here!"

Velma scanned the notecard, and sure enough, the recipe called for a homemade batch of cookie dough frosting to spread on top of the cupcakes. "Shaggy, won't it take a long time to bake everything if we're creating not only cupcakes, but the frosting, as well?" Velma asked as Shaggy walked towards her cradling three boxes of Scooby Snacks, which she eyed curiously. She then added, "And _why on Earth_ would we need that many boxes of Scooby Snacks?!"

"Like, Velma, greatness can not be questioned!" Shaggy explained patiently. He placed everything on the counter top with a grin as he took the recipe from Velma's hand. "And like, besides, we have all the time in the world right now to make these perfect, so we might as well start from scratch! And you are gonna love this frosting – I call it 'The Best Cookie Dough Frosting in the World!'"

"Very creative," Velma murmured with a smile, feeling more amused by the minute.

Shaggy reached for the brown sugar and the powdered sugar and carefully measured out a cup of each, which he then combined into a larger red mixing bowl. "What do you need me to do, Shaggy?" Velma asked nervously. Truthfully, Velma wasn't much of a chef; she could create simple dinner dishes to sustain herself every day, but she typically relied on a slow cooker to do the job for her, and she didn't tend to appreciate the finer details in food enough to the same extent that Shaggy did, so she never bothered learning sophisticated recipes, and baking made her nervous. The few times she had baked independently, her cakes were brown on the bottom and tasted crispy instead of moist and soft; Shaggy's cool and calm demeanor in the kitchen was another factor that drew her to him, especially since he never expected her to cook for them since he enjoyed it so much, which was a chore he took on eagerly when they first moved in together. While Velma didn't want to stand around idly and helplessly as Shaggy whipped up this frosting, she was also secretly fearful that her contributions would somehow ruin his famous cupcakes.

"Like, you can begin by softening the butter," he instructed. "You can just put it in the microwave for, like, twenty seconds to melt it down a bit. Then, you can like, crack an egg for me while I add in the butter and the powders and mix 'em all together!"

Velma sighed with relief, feeling as though that was all easy enough for even her to handle. She unwrapped the stick of butter and placed it in a microwavable bowl, and then keyed in the required twenty seconds as Shaggy had instructed. After twenty seconds had passed, she dumped the butter into Shaggy's mixing bowl and watched the mixer beat and whip the ingredients together, creating a pasty, doughy slab that looked too strange to eventually become something edible, let alone frosting.

"Like, wanna crack the egg?" Shaggy asked her with a smile.

"Oh jinkies, I almost forgot!" Velma snapped her fingers as she turned towards the refrigerator. She yanked the door open and scanned the shelves until her eyes fell upon the carton of a dozen eggs, which contained about six since Shaggy and Scooby had just eaten scrambled eggs for breakfast that very same day.

"This isn't so bad after all," Velma thought to herself, smiling as she slammed the refrigerator door shut and spun on her heels, turning towards Shaggy as he mixed and worked. "Maybe I can do this after all, especially with Shaggy's help. Maybe I –"

As Velma was walking towards Shaggy, she somehow stumbled as she was daydreaming and tripped, sending the carton of eggs hurtling into the air. Shaggy heard her trip and turned towards her only to face a shower of eggs that pelted him in the face and on his arms. He flung his arms in front of him in an effort to shield himself, but it was too late; in an instant, he was covered in egg yolk. Stunned, Velma could only gape at him as the slippery yellow eggs dripped and slipped down his cheeks and his arms and pooled onto the kitchen floor, but as she watched him brush his hands through his hair, which loosened pebbles of egg shells that scattered onto the floor, she felt herself involuntarily jerk with laughter, and an instant later she was screaming with giggles; in fact, she was laughing so hard that the laughter sapped all of the energy from her body, and she leaned against the kitchen counter for support.

If Shaggy had been a tense and short-fused kind of a guy, Velma's reaction might have caused him to erupt, but Shaggy was always patient and mild-mannered and fun-loving, so he grinned when he saw an opportunity for some fun.

"Like, zoinks! I feel like such an _egg head_ , Velma," Shaggy said coyly. When Velma burst into another round of laughter, he grinned and added, "Ah, you think that's funny, eh Velm? Gee, that's a nice sweater ya got there. It sure would be a shame if, like, somethin' dirtied it."

In an instant Velma straightened up and narrowed her eyes at Shaggy playfully. "You wouldn't," she warned him lightly, but in an instant Shaggy dug into the sack of flour beside him and threw a fistful of flour at her before he followed up with swiping some egg yolk from his arm and flinging it in her direction. Velma squealed and ran beneath the opposite side of the counter, ducking for cover as though she was hiding in a trench during a war.

"All right, Shaggy Rogers, this time it's personal!" Velma said giddily. "I mean, I can't believe you've dirtied my sweater when I've only got about 20 other orange ones that look _exactly_ like this – how unforgivable! You're going down!"

The next few minutes Shaggy and Velma hurled any ingredients they could grasp, and it wasn't long before the kitchen counters were coated in flour and brown sugar and powdered sugar. Scooby, who had heard the commotion from his spot on the living room couch and was curious about the noise, went to investigate. When he walked into the kitchen and saw Shaggy and Velma caked in soggy flour and pieces of egg yolk, he paused, perplexed, tilting his head at the scene before him.

As soon as Scooby entered the kitchen Velma and Shaggy paused and flew apart from each other. Velma swiped away a sticky piece of hair that had clumped onto her glasses, and Shaggy licked the powdered sugar from his lips.

"Rello, rhat's roing on here?" Scooby asked.

Velma and Shaggy blinked at each other as if they were attempting to silently communicate an explanation, but then all at once, they burst into laughter as they absorbed the ridiculousness of the situation. Velma moved towards Shaggy and enveloped him into a hug.

"Shaggy, I'm so sorry I fell and hit you with those eggs," she giggled. "I'm just hopeless in the kitchen! It looks like we aren't going to get those famous cupcakes of your's baked tonight, after all."

"It's like, all good Velm!" Shaggy said, kissing the top of her sticky forehead with a lopsided grin. "We can always try again tomorrow; after all, we've got all day to try and get these Scooby Snack cupcakes just right! Like, let's say we go clean up and get ready for bed."

Velma stood on her tiptoes to kiss Shaggy on the lips, which never failed to make him blush, even though they had exchanged numerous kisses by now. "Thanks so much for helping me take my mind off things, Shaggy," she whispered. "You're the best guy in the world.

* * *

Scooby watched as Velma and Shaggy retreated from the kitchen, walking hand in hand as they made plans to clean themselves and retire to bed. He scrunched his eyes as he attempted to explain what had just happened; the few times he had tried to cook something, he had spilled food everywhere and created a big mess, and it usually resulted in him being scolded by one of the members of Mystery Inc. Now Velma and Shaggy were not only leaving this mess behind in the kitchen, but they were encouraging and creating it by throwing food at each other. Why were humans constantly saying and doing things that confused him?

This question had perplexed Scooby often throughout his life, especially as he trailed his friends solving mystery after mystery, but that question was more and more relevant during this whole pandemic. While he didn't quite understand the extent of it as thoroughly as his human friends, he knew that it was serious, and it required him and his friends to stay home this time rather than traipse around the world in an attempt to stop it, which he was more than fine by him since it meant he could spend more time relaxing with Shaggy. But what stumped Scooby was the way humans were reacting whenever he watched the news or went out to the grocery store, which was something he did for Velma and Shaggy often as soon as Velma heard that household pets were immune to the virus. The most recent time Scooby had gone grocery shopping was just a few days ago, and as he had threaded in and out of aisles while he nudged the cart along with his nose (a woman standing nearby had watched, lowering the face mask from her face just enough to gawk and gape, and as Scooby passed by he heard her murmur, "When they said to send the head of the household, I didn't even think to send my cat, Mr. Sniffles,"), he was astounded by some of what he witnessed. In the middle of the canned goods aisle, a man and a woman were screaming and swearing at each other as they bargained over the last can of beans, and a few store employees rushed over to separate them as the tensions escalated. Scooby squirmed, passing over the aisle and mentally reminding himself to return after he swooped by the neat pyramid of toilet paper that was usually stacked near the dairy section; however, the neat pyramid of toilet paper was gone, and his eyes glazed over as he eyed clusters of people standing around with multiple bags of toilet paper shoved at the bottom of their cart. One man even loaded his entire cart with only toilet paper rolls, and it was stacked so high that it looked like a mountain that threatened to topple over at any minute. And Scooby's entire shopping experience was tinged with an element of fear and anxiety; every human face was covered with a sterile white surgeon's mask, and many people had latex gloves covering their hands, as well, which reminded Scooby of the masks that the bad guys during their mysteries had worn and made him shudder. Even though these surgeon masks and the cheap, rubbery Halloween masks were utilized for two entirely different things, Scooby couldn't help but notice the parallels between the two situations; while no one at the grocery store was explicitly breaking the law like the masked villains during his mysteries, Scooby almost felt as though he was amongst criminals as he shopped merely based upon the way the people in the store were behaving so selfishly and maliciously.

When Scooby returned home and explained some of what he saw to Velma and Shaggy, he asked them both why people were behaving that way at the store. Shaggy sighed and patted Scooby on top of his head while Velma shook her head with disgust.

"Scoob," Shaggy said carefully. "You're, like, a good boy, and some of what ya saw today, like, doesn't make sense to you because you can't comprehend it, which makes sense because you would, like, totally never behave that way. But, like, sometimes when bad things happen, like really bad things, it brings out the bad in people."

"And sometimes, bad things can draw out the good in people, too," Velma added gently as she rubbed beneath Scooby's chin, which was his favorite spot. "Try to see if you can find the good people right now, too."

So the next time Scooby left Velma and Shaggy's house to visit Fred and Daphne, who were quarantined at their own house, or to run to the grocery store again, he kept his eyes open and ensured he was alert to how people were behaving in ways that were good instead, as Velma had mentioned. Scooby knew that Velma was the smartest person he had ever known, so she had to be right, and sure enough he saw some "good people" emerge from the chaos and the fog that had settled onto the world. Just last week, while he was heading over to Fred and Daphne's with a bag of essential groceries clamped tightly in his mouth, he saw a homeless man slouched against the side of a building, and before Scooby could scamper over to help him, he saw a woman pull over on the side of the road and leave three bags of groceries six feet away from the man before he tearfully waved to her with gratitude. And whenever Scooby watched the evening news, which was now being delivered from the anchor man or anchor woman's living room, Coolsville went out of their way to highlight their hometown heroes, such as a specific firefighter or a nurse or a doctor or even a teacher, and Scooby couldn't believe all the stories pouring in about people who read to fearful children on YouTube every night or famous musicians who started livestreaming concerts from their basements. And while there were definitely stories of selfishness and greed sprinkled in here and there, Scooby decided to focus on the good, and when he did, it made him remember why he enjoyed spending time with humans so much before the pandemic had hit.

But what shocked Scooby the most wasn't the way humans behaved right now, but how he was beginning to behave and think and feel as the quarantined stretched onward. At first he had relished being lazy every day and the fact that he no longer was required to lure any ghosts or villains into a trap alongside Shaggy, but truthfully, he was starting to miss solving mysteries with his friends. He missed how Velma would bribe him and Shaggy into stepping into a haunted mansion or an empty library with the promise of a Scooby Snack or two; he missed jumping into the Mystery Machine to ride towards a new town or a new state for a new adventure; he even missed how the criminal would call him and his friends "meddling kids at the end of a mystery! But as Scooby grabbed a broom from the linen closet and began to sweep some of the flour scattered on the kitchen floor, he reminded himself that the social distancing would end eventually, and that it wouldn't be long before he and his friends could pile into the Mystery Machine once more to save the world in their own way. Even though he knew the social distancing had been tough on all of his friends, who were living in separate houses right now, he knew the time apart only made each of them more appreciative of their friendships and their mystery solving accomplishments, and he couldn't wait for the day when the five of them could come closer together than the required six feet that was demanded of everyone right now.

As Scooby was sweeping, Shaggy poked his head into the kitchen. "Like, there ya are, buddy!" Shaggy grinned, which caused Scooby's tail to thump eagerly. "Zoinks, that sure is nice of ya to clean up for us! Let's say we just worry about that all tomorrow and get some shut eye for tonight; after all, we have all the time in the world to do whatever we want all over again tomorrow!"

Scooby stored the broom and the dust pan in the linen closet and followed Shaggy eagerly to the bed he shared with his best friends, eagerly awaiting all the fun he would have at home with Velma and Shaggy when the sun rose tomorrow morning, and mentally hoping that this time, he could join in on their food fight, as well.


End file.
